To Conjure a God
by Silver Pansy
Summary: Things are rarely as they seem on the surface. That is especially true for the small but developing Karakura Town, where all seems well at first glance, but beneath the surface war rages between two rivaling cults. Harvesting the power of conjured demons, both sides seek to contract the most powerful one of all... Full summary on inside. Rating may go up


**Summary**: Things are rarely as they seem on the surface. That is especially true for the small but developing Karakura Town, where all seems well at first glance, but beneath the surface war rages between two rivaling cults. Harvesting the power of conjured demons, both sides seek to contract the most powerful one of all. Whoever controls the one and only God of Death brings victory to their side.

Silver: Yeah, so somehow this came about by reading too many Bleach cross-overs, but here's the first chapter of my second multi-chapter fic. It may not be updated for a while though 'cause I still have to finish the first one. Tell me what you think of the plot and my characterization as of the first chapter. It's really important that there's as little OOCness as possible in this considering how much is going to naturally be incorporated due to the plot, so if anyone sees something that doesn't seem quite right, tell me.

I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. Enjoy

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><p>It was a quiet night in Karakura Town, a warm breeze ruffling the leaves settled firmly on their respective trees. Most people would have been in bed by that time, the sun having long since sunk beneath the horizon, but the moon had all but vanished that night, marking the new phase cycle and obscuring one's view of a certain abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. At first glance it was no different from any of the other abandoned warehouses along the cracked and barren street, but an ominous air clung to the fading grey paint, unconsciously warning the average passerby away.<p>

Inside wasn't much better, the shadows only seemed to grow deeper, darkness overtaking everything. A multitude of candles strewn, to the untrained eye, randomly around the large area did almost nothing to illuminate the pitch black interior, only revealing the white, chalk dots each was resting on. Situated comfortably in the center of the room was a petite, black haired girl, her eyes closed and breathing calm as she sat cross-legged in the middle of an intricately drawn chalk circle. Across from her lay the only basic wax candle not resting on a splotch of white. Instead, it was in a circle much like the one the girl sat in, but the lines were inverted, giving the second shape a more chaotic feel.

The doomed light was flickering wildly, threatening to extinguish itself at any moment despite the lack of wind inside the warehouse itself. Just as the dying flame appeared to go out, a series of unintelligible words were uttered softly from the raven, her voice, though quiet, carrying throughout.

The once weak flame flared at her finishing breath, suddenly freezing along with the rest of the candle just as the small light seemed to burn its brightest. From the center of the opposing circle, a cold wind rushed through the warehouse, extinguishing the other candles and causing frost to creep along the floor toward the girl. Instead of flinching away, she sat a little taller, determined not to show any weakness in the face of oncoming danger.

"I am not afraid of you," she called, voice powerful and unwavering, "I have conjured you to lend me your power and protect me in the face of danger. I, Rukia Kuchiki, am your master, Sode no Shirayuki."

There was a ghastly, ear splitting shriek when Rukia finished the summons, the now named Sode no Shirayuki futilely resisting the retreating ice, using what little power the circle allowed her to extend the tendrils of frost farther from the opposing circle she'd been forced to materialize within. It was useless, however, and eventually the deadly cold had been fully contained within the summoning circle, its master a surprisingly beautiful young girl whose pale skin nearly matched her silvery hair in pallor. She panted lightly, out of breath from the struggle as her hard, pale blue eyes glared coldly at the raven haired conjurer that managed to get her into such a degrading position.

She had just one question for her new… master. "Why would you seek the power of a demon? Is your own not enough?"

"It is not your place to ask questions," Rukia snapped harshly, "besides, you'll soon find out."

With the contract in place, the newly conjured demon rose somewhat sourly with her new master, exiting the warehouse she'd been summoned in now that the circle's binding power had been transferred to her forced contract. Outside wasn't much better than inside, she'd soon discovered. There were even more people out here, and though they were well hidden, the dark aura surrounding each one was impossible for any decent demon to miss. These people, they stunk of death and stolen power, and it was not at all pleasant to the young demon that had unwittingly become another tool for them to use.

The new moon had always proved to be the optimum time to perform a summons, but in a secure place far across town the differing methods of such were truly displayed that night. After years of training and studying, all the preparation was finally put to the test as a youngling performed his first unsupervised summons. Of course, there were multiple people just outside, willing and ready to come to his aid should something go wrong. The circle and set up were quite similar, the only difference the opposing circle. Where a candle should have rested, lay only a small charm, five pointed connected close to the center by a ring. The blue coloring of it seemed to almost glow in the dim light as the young conjurer started the ritual.

Despite having the same basic purpose, this method of summoning had many noticeable differences just about everywhere they counted, most prominently in the results. The chant used had been in a different language than the one that had taken place not a moment before, the sound of it more crude and sharp, but it mattered little compared to the bright glow the small charm had taken up, shining with the energy of a captured demon. All of a sudden, the little charm wasn't quite so little anymore, nor could it be technically classified as a charm, considering it had expanded to take the shape of a slender bow, only the initial radiant blue a sign it was indeed still the same thing.

The dark energy now radiating off the unique bow was nothing short of ominous, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that a demon, or at least one's power, now resided within the weapon. Standing, the successful conjurer stepped forward with an unconscious grace to retrieve the results of his summons. It reverted to the charm at his touch, but shined a little brighter, unable to completely hide the demonic power it had so effortlessly absorbed.

"I was successful, we can leave now," the boy called seemingly to no one as he exited the room. He carried an air of confidence not previous present during his summoning ritual.

Despite the night being nearly empty of any movement, the only sign of such the rustling of leaves in the warm spring breeze, the young man seemed to know at least someone was there, even when he had not been informed of such a tail. Normally, he'd have gotten angry when his suspicions were proved by the almost inaudible sound of hard soled boots touching ground, but it was obvious this particular event, his first summoning, was not only important, but extremely dangerous. The figure was only concerned for him.

"His Majesty will be pleased you succeeded." The voice was soft, hard to distinguish above the whistle of wind and the rustle of leaves, but it was there and the boy could only nod in reply. Success had always been an expectation, he didn't need such praise for it.

The following morning was warm and friendly, betraying nothing of the secret nightlife the small but developing town hosted. It was a well known fact, however, about this town, that there was something happening right beneath the surface, maybe not to the average traveler or passerby, but to the people that had lived there their entire lives, it was hard to not notice when the air and temperament of Karakura itself seemed to become dark and foreboding, but after years, it was accepted as part of the town, and was left alone.

As was such, the topic of conversation throughout most of the town concerned mundane, easily forgotten subjects that wouldn't draw too much unwanted attention. No one mentioned how peaceful and light the air had felt lately, instead they talked of the pleasant weather. They spoke of finals and projects and any other manner of conversation, studiously ignoring the overbearing feeling of relief when another night passed without a single unexplained death.

This tranquil, unassuming atmosphere was exactly what a certain orangette had been hoping for on a job, but he knew from experience, things were rarely ever as they appeared, especially if it started quietly. There was something hiding there, he wouldn't have been there otherwise, but the semblance of normality was so welcome after so long he couldn't help but enjoy it while it lasted.

As if on cue, his mind started to wander, taking in the scenery and noting the warmth creeping through the air, chasing away the cold but not becoming stifling. He thought of why he'd had to come here in the first place and why it was important, although, at that point in his life, after having done the same thing over and over for an uncountable number of years, he was bound to lose some interest, no matter how important his job actually was.

_Ichigo, focus, _a deep voice sounded from seemingly nowhere. No one around the orangette reacted to it, not one even hinting that they had heard it, but that wasn't important at the moment.

Ichigo's brows furrowed in concentration, the boy trying to pull his wandering mind away from trivial topics. _Right, sorry, _he thought, knowing the voice would hear him, _but you know haw easy it is for my mind to drift, it was kind of inevitable. Even you expected it to happen eventually, Zangetsu_

_Yes, but even so, you must remain on the task at hand, that's why I'm reminding you not to drift._

His steps stopped abruptly, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, the foot traffic parting around him like the river to a rock in its path. The task at hand, the task at hand, he was supposed to be doing something here, and of course, being who he was, he could finish it so quickly and just be on his way home. But what was the fun in that? There was so much more he could do, and besides, he needed a change from home anyway. Grinning widely at the realization of what he could do, he continued on down the block, a light bounce now present in his step. Now all he had to do was hope none of his subordinates came to drag him back.

Rukia Kuchiki was a well respected girl throughout town, amiable, but tough when the situation called for it, beautiful in her own right, and most notably, younger sister of the one and only Byakuya Kuchiki, Sixth Division captain of Seireitei. The company itself was quite easily one of the biggest franchises in all of Japan, rivaled only by their most hated competitor, Wandenreich. The two competitors had been at the other's throat almost since their very foundation, unwilling to give up and disappear, but also unwilling to allow the other to get ahead.

That was a well known fact all around Japan, but particularly in Karakura, the small town having been the origin of both. In fact, most of the top officials of both companies still lived within the town, spreading a great deal of fear about the air, especially when it was learned that the Thirteenth Division lieutenant of Seireitei was attending the same school as the heir to the Wandenreich Empire. That had been several years ago though, and now Rukia traversed peacefully through the town of her birth, oblivious to the return of her most hated enemy.

The lightly clouded sky shifted little, the wind having stilled into nonexistence sometime during the night. Rukia was enjoying the fruits of her success, taking no small amount of pride in her new tool. It fluttered behind her in an invisible haze, sight of the beautiful white ghost granted only to those with sufficient power. Sode no Shirayuki had been a pain to summon, several failed attempts over the years nearly costing her life. But progressing farther in the ranks of the company required she attain her own power, her position as the younger sister of a captain not enough to gain respect in their world of eat or be eaten.

It was quite customary for demons like hers to carry a weapon, the world they came from being even harsher than the Seireitei, or so Rukia assumed, she had never been there herself, obviously, nor had anyone else, but based off of the vague descriptions some demons were willing to give, their world sounded suspiciously like a kind of purgatory.

In particular, her Sode no Shirayuki held a pure white sword, the guard circular, a long ribbon flowing in a nonexistent. Truly, the sword held an ethereal beauty, much like the demon herself. Rukia was not only proud to call it hers, but also excited to find out what kind of power that sword, her demon possessed. She'd gotten a glimpse of it just the night before, when she'd finally managed to successfully summon her, but all she knew was that Sode no Shirayuki's power was ice based, hardly enough knowledge to truly use her.

The petite girl, now strong enough to truly be considered a lieutenant, walked contentedly onward, not stopping even when a blob of orange rushed past her, the boy it was attached to unimportant and uninteresting. What did interest her was the distinct demonic feel radiating constantly from the main building of Seireitei, located just outside of Karakura where there was enough space to keep expanding in the future. It was her current destination, and it was much preferred to the strange, slightly warped feeling of the massive, almost palace like building behind her. Even she, a mere child to the company, found her hatred of Wandenreich much stronger than anything she'd ever felt before.

It was almost overpowering, and the feeling was not one sided. Somewhere, in another part of town, a serious young man dressed casually in white readjusted his glasses, the movement of his arm causing the small, five pointed charm on his wrist to swing loosely. The night had been longer for him, longer than even the black haired girl he was absently keeping tabs on since he'd returned to the city. How could he not though? His new power had nearly consumed him in his quest to achieve it, though he was careful not to let even the slightest hint of it show through. The girl, someone he knew better than he wished he did, had also been a constant pain throughout his childhood. No matter how much he tried to convince himself he was too old to hold a grudge for as long as he had, Uryu Ishida still found himself hating Rukia Kuchiki.

When he thought back on it, there wasn't a real reason for it in particular, more an automatic response beaten into him ever since he learned of who his father was. Meaning he'd hated anything and everything to do with Seireitei the moment he earned it existed. At first it was just an automatic reaction to everything he'd been taught growing up, but his reasons became so much more personal after that incident.

Nothing should have happened, nothing would have happened. It was just a normal day, spent training and enjoying time with his mentor and grandfather. That was until they were ambushed by conjurers from the other side. He'd been young then, incapable of helping, incapable of fighting back. Hell, Uryu hadn't even received an empty charm or a regular bow to practice with. But he still blamed himself, still believed it was his fault for being too weak to help his aging grandfather. The man had been strong, despite his age though, and in his desperation to protect his student and grandson, had killed all the Shinigami that had attacked him, but not without a cost. When the fight had settled, the small child that had taken refuge behind a tree was the only left breathing, the summoned demons having departed for their own realm after the death of their masters.

It was a painful memory, one Uryu hated reliving even though it haunted him almost every time he closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do to change the past, he accepted that, but that didn't mean he couldn't exact revenge against the people that took away one of the few people he'd actually loved.

Back in the present, his absent tracking of the only Shinigami he'd known personally led him his senses to the main building of Seireitei. He didn't hate her in particular, but she was his enemy, and an enemy of the empire. As he continued down the street, Uryu found he wouldn't mind all that much if Kuchiki just dropped dead.

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><p>Silver: So, what'd you think. Even though it's kind of short it's still pretty good for the first chapter, yeah?<p>

Pansy: If you need other people to tell you how good your writing is, you may have a problem.

Silver: That's not the point of this *bursts into tears*

Pansy: Review, comment, point out inconsistencies, and it will be updated as soon as everything else is complete.


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